Animal I Have Become
by WhatTheF-ckHaveYouDoneLately
Summary: Inspired by a prompt given to me by Reaper's Curse. 2x05 AU, Sam/werewolf!Andy. The Winchester brothers were just on another hunt, but there's a lot more to it than they first think, and Sam makes the mistake of falling in love with one Andy Gallagher.
1. I Can't Escape This Hell

**Author's Note:**

**Some time ago, Reaper's Curse asked for M rated Sam/werewolf!Andy, complete with tail kink, tacos, and Andy topping. Well…it grew into a freaking monstrosity. This was originally one massive one-shot but I decided to split it up into chapters to make for an easier read. This is a very different take on 2x05, but I didn't want to just write Heart with Andy in Madison's place, hence the insanely long not-so-one-shot-anymore. I couldn't quite wrap my mind around the pairing at first, so my apologies if this sucks even worse than I think it does.**

* * *

><p>The scenery flew by outside the Impala as Dean drove well over the speed limit on the way to their new hunt. The older hunter was singing Foreigner's "Hot Blooded" at the top of his lungs, his younger sibling wondering if it would be less painful to put a gun in his mouth and pull the trigger rather than suffer through any more of Dean's singing. He finally decided to tough it out and continued to stare out the window, tuning out the sound of his brother's voice.<p>

They were on their way to a small town in Oklahoma to hunt a werewolf. Sam had rolled his eyes at Dean's excitement over the "totally freakin' badass guns" they would get to use. They were about an hour out now, according to the map spread across Sam's lap, the edges of it slightly torn from overuse and being stuffed into the glove compartment one too many times. Sam looked out at his dull surroundings, his head throbbing from the volume of his brother's music. Finally, after the two hours he'd spent pointlessly asking Dean to turn it down, he lost his temper.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

Sam looked over at him, rubbing his temples. "If you don't turn that music down, I will take your 'totally freakin' badass gun' and blow your jewels off with it."

"Geez, I think it's Samantha's time of the month," Dean quipped, lowering the volume.

Sam sighed and closed his eyes as the headache eased off. It wasn't the kind he got with visions, just the kind that made him threaten to but a bullet in his brother's genitals. He just wanted a hunt to distract him. Every day was the same anymore, and he knew that a mundane lifestyle was better than an unpredictable one, but the way every day ran together was getting a little depressing. He could go for a little differentiation.

When they finally arrived in Guthrie, Sam's long legs were in desperate need of a stretch. They pulled up at their usual haunt, a crappy motel, and slid out of the Impala, closing the doors behind them. A few joints popped as Sam stretched, rolling his shoulders and working the knots of tension out of his muscles. Dean made an offhand comment about Sam popping and squeaking like an old man, and his younger brother turned to glare at him.

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Dean checked them into a room, the secretary jumping to the usual assumption, which was that they were gay. They both denied it quickly, Dean going on about it for ten minutes once they got back to their room. Sam agreed that it was sick, wrong, twisted, gross, fucked up, and every other colorful adjective his brother supplied to describe the notion of them being lovers. When Dean reached the end of his rant, he asked Sam what he had as far as leads went.

"Well I would have more if someone hadn't been blaring mullet rock too loud for me to concentrate on the newspaper I was trying to read," Sam replied.

"Hey, you know the rules Sammy. Driver picks the music-"

"Shotgun shuts his cakehole. I know the drill," he said, opening his laptop and connecting it to the motel's wireless Internet server.

A few minutes later, he said, "Okay, so this is an article from the local newspaper. It says that the authorities are puzzled and devastated by the gruesome and mysterious deaths in their town, all within a five mile radius of a local and well known diner."

"Let's go check out this diner," Dean said, pulling the car keys from his pocket. "I'm hungry anyways."

Sam bookmarked the article and closed his laptop, pushing his hair out of his face and following his brother back out to the Impala. His legs protested to climbing back in it so soon, but work was work. Dean drummed his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of AC/DC, which was thankfully a lot quieter now that Sam had threatened castration.

It was an extremely small town, so it wasn't long before they arrived at an old, rundown diner that seemed to do surprisingly good business. A fairly pretty blond brought them their requested coffee, and then bustled off to the kitchen to retrieve Dean's burger. In her absence, Sam looked around. This place reeked of small town diner. The interior looked more like someone's living room than a professional establishment, and there was even a couch against one wall. Overall it wasn't that different from where they usually ate, save for it having tables and chairs instead of booths and barstools.

"Thank you sweetheart," Dean said flirtatiously as the waitress returned with his food.

She blushed. "Is there anything else I can get you boys?"

"Oh I'm sure there is."

Sam glared over at his brother. "Please excuse him. Actually we're just passing through and we were hoping you might know something about the deaths that have been happening here?"

"Those poor people," she said sadly. "This is an everybody knows everybody kind of town, so it really tore us up when our friends kept dying. Especially Andy." There was a wistful fondness when she said "Andy" that suggested they might have been romantically involved at one point.

"Andy?" Sam repeated, leaning forwards.

She nodded, her loosely curled blond hair bouncing against her shoulders. "Andy Gallagher. He freaks out every time he hears about one of the deaths, and he wasn't even all that close to some of these people. I understand, I mean he's a real sensitive guy and all, but I worry about him."

Sam and Dean shared a look, both knowing they'd found their first lead. That piece of information had "guilty conscious" written all over it. The freaking out could be from guilt or from fear of being caught, but either way it didn't look good. Then it occurred to Sam that if he was right to think this girl had been involved with Andy, and he was sure he was, then their guy was pretty damn young. The waitress couldn't be any older than Sam, and she didn't seem to be the older guy type. Sam always hated it when they had to kill the younger ones, monsters or not.

Nonetheless, Sam gave her his best puppy dog look and asked, "Where might we find Andy? We'd love to offer him our sympathies."

"Orchard Street. Look for the van with the Barbarian Queen on it."

"The Barbarian Queen?" Dean repeated, giving her a dubious glance over the rim of his cup.

"She's riding a polar bear. Kinda hard to miss."

* * *

><p>Turns out it <em>was<em> pretty hard to miss. I guess something about a large blue van with a half naked woman riding a polar bear on it stands out a little. Dean commented that he liked the kid's style, which earned a glare from Sam.

"Hey, I think that's our guy," Dean said, nodding to a young man across the street.

He was of about average height, with adorably handsome features, curly brown hair, and a sweet smile. Nothing about Andy really said "murderer" but Sam knew just how well monsters could blend in. Dean snorted at the boy's long robe, the back adorned with a tiger, and loose fitting clothing that included grey sweatpants, mumbling something about him looking like a throwback from the sixties. Sam couldn't help but to agree, but he also found it admirable that Andy expressed who he was so freely and openly, seemingly without a care about what anyone else thought of him.

"You follow Andy, I'll check out the van," Dean said.

Sam nodded and got out of the car, walking across the street and discreetly falling into step a few paces behind Andy. Thankfully the dark haired boy was walking in the opposite direction from Dean, and if need be, Sam could keep him busy with small talk to make sure Dean had enough time to give the boy and presumed werewolf's home a thorough inspection. Sam became lost in his thoughts as he walked, not realizing how close he was to Andy until he tumbled into his back.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going," he apologized, Andy's hand on his arm to help straighten him.

Andy flashed him a smile. "It's okay. You high?"

"What? Oh, um, no, I don't…"

"You should, man. It's awesome."

_This guy's a werewolf? _Sam thought. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind." He held out his hand, feeling oddly compelled to tell Andy his real name, "I'm Sam Winchester."

"Andy Gallagher. You look like you haven't gotten any sleep, dude. How about some coffee?"

"Just had some, but thanks." Sam was surprised at how friendly Andy was, and how easy it felt to converse with him.

"So, where ya heading?"

Sam shrugged. "Nowhere in particular, just out for a walk."

"I'm heading to the old records store, wanna tag along?" Andy offered. To a perfect stranger, mind you.

While he was reluctant to follow who they assumed to be a man-eating monster, Sam not only needed to tail Andy so he could observe whether or not there was anything suspicious about his whereabouts, but in spite of years spent building caution towards strangers and especially ones they were hunting, he liked Andy. He may be bloodthirsty and cruel by night, but right now he was just a nice, easygoing kid and Sam wouldn't mind spending some time with him. So he shrugged off the little voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Dean's and followed Andy, his feet carrying him across the lightly cracked pavement of the sidewalk.

The 'old records store' was exactly what it sounded like. An older man that looked like he still belonged in the sixties (much like Andy) stood at the counter, and records of all sorts covered the walls and bins in the middle of the store. Old music from the fifties played from an honest to Hades record player. Sam smiled, watching Andy with fond amusement as the boy danced around to the music whilst flipping through the stacks of records. Judging from the familiarity with which Andy maneuvered the store, it was a frequent haunt for him.

"Come on Sam, do something besides stand there," Andy said.

He shifted awkwardly. "I, um…"

"Dude, could that stick _be_ any further up your ass? You need to get high. Or laid. Or both…"

Sam blushed, which only made Andy's ever present grin widen. If he didn't know any better (which he really did, or so he told himself) he'd say Andy was flirting with him. It wouldn't be the first time Sam had gotten hit on during a hunt, but however it _was_ the first time that he kind of…well…liked it. It was a very, very bad idea and Sam knew it, but he'd spent his life playing by the unspoken rules that applied to every "good" boy in the world, and maybe just this once, he could get away with bending them a little. Dean would go through the roof, but if the younger Winchester was being entirely honest with himself, that was part of the rush that accompanied the whole idea of returning the somewhat lewd gaze being aimed at him from Andy Gallagher.

But Sam was Sam, so he smiled back at Andy in a way nothing more than friendly before turning to casually peruse the merchandise.

Half an hour later, which was spent strolling through downtown and window shopping (Sam fervently denied to himself that it _wasn't_ something usually reserved for couples) Dean called, worried, and asked where the hell Sam was. _Um, going for an afternoon stroll with the hippie throwback that may or may not be a werewolf? _That probably wouldn't go over so well. So he just replied that he'd gotten tied up and that he'd meet Dean back at the Impala.

"Andy, I'm sorry, but I've got to go," Sam said, slipping his phone back in his pocket.

Andy nodded as they began to part ways, and before Sam was out of earshot, he yelled, "Today was fun! Don't be a stranger!"

Guilt knotted in Sam's stomach as he started back for the Impala, Andy thankfully not seeming to want to return to his van, because Sam thought that would be awkward if they had to walk together all the way back. It would feel too much like the end of a date, which that most certainly had _not_ been. The light, airy feeling that had come with Andy's presence had faded, replaced by a sinking feeling that was wallowing in Sam's gut. Now that he'd gotten to know Andy, the thought of killing him was that much more repulsive.

Soon Sam was sliding into the passenger's side of the Impala, Dean cranking the classic automobile and asking, "What's the story on our guy?"

"He seems nice," Sam responded nonchalantly. "What about the van?"

"Well it has a half naked chick on it. This kid's got style."

At Sam's sigh of exasperation, he added, "Everything's perfectly normal, except that I didn't see hide nor hair of anything silver. Nothing, notta, zilch. Not even a class ring."

"I think we've got our guy," Sam said, less with the usual triumph of nailing a suspect and more with disappointment that, by all means, Andy would be dead within the next twenty-four hours.

The boy's words echoed in his head. _Don't be a stranger. _Sam wished it was that simple.


	2. You Can See, The Darkest Side of Me

***And here's where it gets M rated…just so ya know.**

Dean later commented that they couldn't take action until they were absolutely certain that Andy was a werewolf, so he assigned Sam to looking after their suspect while Dean armed himself with a fake FBI badge and went to the morgue to make sure there wasn't anything out of the ordinary with the corpses. Well, out of the ordinary besides the fact their hearts were missing. Sam on one hand was weary of being around Andy again, and furthermore facing his attraction to Andy, but on the other hand he was looking forward to spending time with the cheerful brunette again.

The sun was sinking down behind the distant mountains by the time the brothers split up to attend to their separate duties. Reds, pinks, and oranges painted the sky in an ethereal mural, casting a long shadow behind Sam as he made his way down Orchard Street. Andy's van was exactly where it had been a few hours ago, not that the hunter had expected otherwise. Sam was, for reasons that were unknown to him, feeling confrontational. Not in a violent way. He would have preferred it to be violence that was resulting in his face flushing a deep shade of red, but the tension clenching his muscles was disturbingly sexual. And it had all started to set in after he'd been faced with the prospect of seeing Andy again. He hated the way he was reacting, but he was powerless to repress himself.

Sucking in a deep breath and filling his lungs with air, Sam approached the van and lightly rapped on the passenger's side door. Andy opened it and came tumbling out, his hair mussed and his eyes bloodshot. He gave Sam a dopey grin, the clumsiness of his actions giving away that he was most _definitely_ high.

"You came back," he said happily.

Sam smiled. "You're the one who said don't be a stranger."

"That I did, my friend, that I did. C'mon, join me."

Andy opened the door to the back of his van, and Sam's job was to keep an eye on him, so he accepted the invitation. The inside of Andy's van was…very Andy. A disco ball hung from the ceiling, a beaded curtain separated it from the rest of the interior, a couple of books littered what had been turned into a bed, tigers were painted onto the walls, and a bong laid in the center of it all. It was long and made of glass, more than likely the boy's most prized possession. Sam's long legs protested to the enclosed space, but as Andy crawled in after him and pulled the doors closed behind him, the hunter readjusted himself until he was sitting cross legged in front of Andy. It was dark once the doors were closed. Sam could barely see Andy.

All the more discontenting were the images that came to Sam's mind when he found himself in a dark, enclosed space with Andy. They were close, so close that he could feel the other boy's body heat. The tension that had been curling through him on the way here all combined in a rush of blood that flowed straight down his body and into his groin. He was thankful for the darkness, for it concealed the slight bulge in his jeans. Something about Andy Gallagher was firmly rooted under his skin, and for the life of him, he couldn't pinpoint _why_.

Just when Sam thought his day couldn't get any worse, a very high Andy leaned forward and trailed his lips over Sam's neck. "I can smell you…smell your adrenaline…smell your hunger…"

This was it. The confirmation. But Sam played dumb. "What are you talking about?"

Andy leaned away and reached down to take Sam's hands, a glint of fear shimmering under the bloodshot depths of his eyes. "I have to tell you something. I've never told anyone else. But I feel like I can trust you, Sam."

"Tell me what?" Sam asked, all the while feeling like guilt was going to swallow him whole.

Andy's voice dropped to a whisper. "Dude, you may not believe me…but I'm a werewolf. A real, honest to God werewolf. I was turned when I was eighteen. I never found out who did this to me. Ever since then, I've felt like a freak. And it's so lonely, man. You're the first person I've ever met that makes me feel safe. I get it if you run screaming, or if you never wanna see me again, but Sam…I don't want to be lonely anymore."

His speech had pretty much undone whatever remains of self control Sam had managed to preserve. Because not only did he really like Andy, and not only was he insanely attracted to him, but he knew where he was coming from. Sam had always felt like a freak. He could never tell anyone what he was, never open up to anyone. No one could ever _completely_ know him, inside and out. And as sick and twisted as it was given that Andy pretty much had a death warrant hanging over his head, he felt like for once in his life, he'd finally met someone he could be himself with.

Which is exactly why he didn't object when Andy hesitantly, vulnerably brought their lips together in a kiss.

Sam opened his mouth with a low moan as Andy slipped his tongue inside. He wrapped his fingers in that curly brown hair, clenching it between his fingers. After spending so long alone, without becoming attached to anyone, kissing someone felt so damn good. Judging from Andy's low moans, the feeling was mutual. Before Sam could really set his mind on a rational path so that he could tell himself how positively horrible of an idea this was, it promptly went offline as Andy repositioned so that Sam was laid out on the makeshift bed and Andy was on top of him. His knees were drawn up slightly to accommodate the small space.

The hunter reached up and pushed Andy's robe off his shoulders and down his arms, letting it drop. It took some very agile repositioning to get each other stripped and their clothing ended up strewn all over the van, but after some moves worthy of the most flexible gymnasts, they were skin to skin. Sam gasped as Andy rubbed his erection against Sam's, sending white hot sparks of pleasure racing up his spine. Fingers reached back to probe his hole, eliciting a hard shudder from the taller man.

"Are you sure?" Sam panted, his legs parting without him even meaning for them to. This was _so_ not what Dean meant by 'keeping an eye on' Andy.

Andy nodded quickly and breached Sam's entrance with one finger, stretching the inner ring of tight muscle. Sam growled out that he wanted more, and Andy hastened to oblige, sliding a second finger in, crooking them. Sam moaned and moved his hips down against Andy's fingers, his long brown hair falling into his eyes. He might have thought that it needed to be cut, but suddenly he was blinded with ecstasy as Andy's fingers pressed against his prostate.

"Oh yes," Sam panted, his legs opening as far as they could in their current position.

Sam suddenly felt very empty as those two fingers were removed and then replaced with the long, flushed length of Andy's shaft. His hips bucked up on their own accord, leaving his entrance even more open to the slow burn of penetration. It was the best pain he could ever imagine. Andy, through the haze of his mind numbing high, growled lowly at the tight heat surrounding him.

"Sam," he moaned, his nails biting into the hunter's shoulders.

Sam was flushed, sweating, and by the standards of anyone that knew beauty when they saw it, gorgeous. "Deeper. Please, Andy, just do it already."

Thankfully the boy had no objections to the requested course of action. He pulled out of Sam almost all the way, and with a brutality that sent bolts of pain and pleasure through Sam so forcefully that he feared he would come right then and there, rammed back in all the way to the hilt. Sam's large hands clenched around Andy's forearms, his calloused fingers pressing against the pale, unmarred skin and leaving small bruises to well up under them.

Andy started to pound into Sam with hard, steady thrusts, striking Sam's prostate with enough force to very nearly undo the hunter. Sam bit back a cry of pleasure as soft, nimble fingers caressed his aching protrusion, weakly begging for more. More of what he didn't know; the assault against the bundle of nerves inside of him or the slow but sensual touch against his cock, but Andy seemed to get the idea and started stroking Sam's length with the same fast pace he was thrusting into his body.

"This is so much better than getting high," Andy commented breathily.

Sam laughed through his panting and hit Andy's ribcage with his knee. "Shut up."

The curly haired boy started the lose his rhythm as he got closer to climax, his head dropping down onto Sam's chest, whimpering softly. Sam wrapped an arm around Andy and threw his head back, arching up just as Andy thrust up into him. His hand trailed down to the base of Andy's spine, lightly pressing to where the boy's tail would be, and it elicited a shockingly powerful reaction.

"Oh gods yes, _fuck_, oh please ohhhh…" Andy trailed off brokenly, rubbing back against Sam's hand.

Sam dug his nails slightly, using his palm to rub the skin. Andy was moaning and panting like nothing the hunter had ever heard before. Those noises were enough to bring Sam that much closer to the edge, which he was teetering on dangerously. Andy was writhing against his hand, still pumping his dick whilst pounding against his prostate. Too many sensations, too many conflicting points of pleasure. They didn't so much as slowly bring Sam to his orgasm as violently throw him into it.

As his release consumed him, his muscles clenched around Andy and his nails sunk into the base of his spine hard enough to draw blood. With a nearly convulsive shudder, Andy came along with him, warmth filling Sam as he did so. They clutched onto each other as if the force of it would tear them apart and carry them away.

"Ffffuck," Andy moaned, riding out the waves.

_Yeah, what he said,_ Sam thought, given that he was unable to speak. His climax was so strong that he grew dizzy and his throat closed up slightly. He wasn't sure how long it was before they finally found themselves twined together, breathing heavily and their hands laced together, resting on Sam's chest. Andy's head was laying on Sam's shoulder, his soft hair tickling the side of the hunter's face. The painfully intimate moment brought every bit of Sam's guilt rushing back to him.

Before he could decide if he wanted to take action based on his guilt, Andy suddenly stiffened and tumbled out of Sam's arms, body tensing up as tight as a wire. "I…I have to go," Andy said quickly, wriggling awkwardly into his clothes and leaving Sam lying there, confused.

Sam tried to grab his arm to ask him what was wrong, but the boy was already out the back doors and disappearing into the night. Sam pulled his clothes on (which was no easy task in the enclosed space) and got out of the van. Andy was nowhere in sight. The sky was an ominous shade of black without a single star to light the expanse of it. Sam looked around, clenching his hands in his hair and cursing under his breath. He had a feeling this was about to get bad, fast. Panic was quickly blotting out the bliss of post coital ecstasy. Sam had more than likely just let a werewolf go, under the full moon nonetheless.

Meanwhile, a low howl echoed in the distance.


	3. Help Me Believe It's Not The Real Me

By the time Sam alerted Dean to the situation and they got on the move, they were too late. He had called his brother and said Andy "got away," and after some artfully creative cursing on Dean's end, he'd picked up Sam in the Impala and asked how the hell Andy had gotten away and in which direction he'd gone. Sam had no answer for either question, which only served to fuel his brother's frustration. The town was small and they had tried to find the boy, but he was nowhere to be found.

Now as they leaned against the van, awaiting the sunrise, Sam found himself harboring an all new reason to be guilty. Because he had become too emotionally invested in the hunt, innocent people had undoubtedly been hurt and very possibly killed. Dean of course had no idea just how badly Sam had screwed up, but the younger brother had every intention of keeping it to himself. No one needed to know the extent of what had conspired between him and Andy. Right now all that mattered was finding him, which would be easiest if they simply maintained their position by the only home he had to return to.

The more time that ticked by, the more wrong it all began to feel. The brothers were growing antsy. Sam took a gun and said he was going to go looking for Andy, telling Dean to stay on guard by the van. The eldest sibling was quick to point out that Sam had already let Andy slip through their fingers once and they couldn't afford for it to happen again, but Sam argued that it wouldn't happen again, and took off for the woods before his brother could proceed with his protests. Andy had become Sam's responsibility, even if it came down to killing the boy.

Faced with the prospect of killing Andy finally forced Sam's emotions to fully surface. The thought of looking into those warm brown eyes and pulling the trigger of his gun, putting out the light in them for good, put a whole new prospective on things. Sam hadn't the faintest of a clue how he had been stupid enough to pull it off, but within the short amount of time he'd known the boy, he'd fallen in love with Andy Gallagher. And killing him would be the hardest thing Sam would ever have to do in his life.

He made his way into the woods, having not seen in which direction Andy had gone but figuring that he would have fled to somewhere secluded. Flecks of blood dotted a cluster of leaves. Sam touched his fingers to the blood and felt that it was so fresh that it was still warm. It was lightly splattered across other areas of greenery, putting the hunter on a clear path, but after a few moments of debate, Sam realized something was off.

If the blood was that fresh, then it would have been shed after the sun came up. After the full moon had set. So either Andy had shed this blood after a long night of howling at the moon, it was Andy's blood that freckled these surfaces, or there was another party at play here. Sam was betting on the second or third option, not only because he still couldn't picture that sweet boy as a killer, but because a gut instinct was telling him that there was something more than the simple hunting of a werewolf taking place here. A deep sense of foreboding was worming its way into him.

"S-Sam?" choked a hopeful voice.

Sam whirled to his left and saw Andy, curled up on the ground and shaking pitifully. His clothes were nowhere to be found, he was pale, and the sight of Sam had cast such a childishly hopeful expression across his face that for a moment it was easy to forget he was a killer. Sam knelt down next to him and hurriedly asked what had happened, trying to pull the boy into a sitting position and halting when Andy cried out in pain, laying back down on the forest floor.

"She's dead, Sam," he said quietly, flecks of blood drying on his face.

"Who's dead?"

Andy looked bewildered and grieved. "Tracey! My ex girlfriend, the waitress from the diner."

An image of the pretty blond from the diner popped into Sam's mind. "What happened to her?"

"He killed her…" Andy whispered, finally managing to move, only to fall shakily into Sam's arms.

Sam instinctively rubbed Andy's back soothingly. "Who, Andy? Who killed her?"

"His name…is Asnem Weems. He said he's my twin."

This new insight had Sam's head whirling with new possibilities of the entire case as he scooped Andy up into his arms as easy as a mother would her child. Andy whimpered softly (and in a fashion not unlike that of a dog, or more appropriately a wolf, feeling hurt or scared) and pressed against the taller man's shirt, his fingers clenching in the thin white cotton. As Sam carried him out of the woods with a tenderness no hunter should feel for their natural enemy, the Winchester realized that regardless of what Andy may or may not have done, he simply couldn't kill him. It wasn't a matter of simple emotion or guilt any longer: he just _couldn't_. Couldn't pull the trigger, couldn't watch the light go out of those warm brown eyes he'd come to love in such an inadequate amount of time. Dean could hate him if he wanted to…Sam was beyond caring.

Dean was waiting by the van, so Sam snuck back to their motel room and grabbed some of Dean's clothes for Andy since Sam's were too large. Andy whispered his thanks and slid into the clothes, which still hung down past his wrists and ankles in spite of Sam's efforts. A loud growl rippled through the room, and Sam drew his gun immediately, moving in front of Andy.

The young werewolf smiled sheepishly. "Um, sorry, that was my stomach."

Sam laughed at his own idiocy and tucked his gun into the back of his jeans, pulling his jacket down to cover it. "Hungry?"

"Starved," Andy admitted.

Sam shook his bangs out of his eyes and started out the door, Andy tailing him. "So, what are you in the mood for?"

"I'm in the mood for something that doesn't involve leaving this room, Sunshine…"

"Not that you perv! You sure do recover fast for someone that just had a near death experience," Sam laughed.

"Get me a bong and an orgasm, I'll be better in no time."

"Andy!"

They were like an old married couple. Banter, playful exchanges of innuendoes, laughing when the other tried to sound scolding…it was kind of sweet, and kind of scary because neither of them knew how they'd come so far, so fast. It had gone from their fateful first meeting, to laughing and goofing off in a records store, to mind-blowing sex in the back of a van, to…well, whatever _this_ was. All Sam knew was that it felt damn good to see Andy happy again, seemingly recovered or at least well on his way to being recovered from the incident in the woods.

"I want tacos," Andy declared, wriggling past Sam in the doorway and giving the hunter's ass a slap on his way out.

Sam smacked the boy's hand away from him with an attempt at a scowl. "Is there even anywhere to get them around here?"

"Sure there is. Come on, follow me."

Andy happily padded outside, Sam at his heels. They took a route that avoided the van and Dean's line of sight, and it was a short walk to a small, old fashioned Mexican joint. It was early in the morning, but according to Andy the place usually opened before the sun was even up, which was rare for a family owned business. Nonetheless, Sam was grateful. He was pretty hungry himself.

Early morning light lit their path as they walked down the desolate sidewalk, the rest of the town still sleeping. Andy's hand found Sam's, and the hunter only hesitated for a small moment before lacing their fingers together. He'd already grabbed on to the hope that maybe Andy wasn't responsible for this after all, and he intended to cling to it until he had undisputable evidence that proved otherwise. Holding tightly to the boy's hand, he took solace in that knowledge as they finally arrived in front of _El Padre's._

Old, brownish red bricks on the outside, and an interior that could make one feel as if they had really just stepped into a restaurant in Mexico. The staff was Hispanic, the waitresses beautiful with their dark skin and fathomless brown eyes. However, Sam was only interested in one person there, and it was the boy walking next to him. Perhaps it wasn't entirely fair to call Andy a "boy" since they were about the same age, but the bright, bubbly personality that Andy practically radiated with made it hard to refer to him as a man. Especially when he flashed that bright, cheery smile.

The hostess seated them in a booth, the leather seats slightly weathered. Sam sat across from Andy and thanked the waitress as she handed them menus and bustled off after taking their drink orders. She was brisk, but polite. More than he could say for most waiting staff these days. Andy hummed his own little beat as he thumbed through the two pages of menu, grinning when he reached the taco selection, the list bordered in bright, festive red swirls.

Still staring at the menu, Andy said, "So I never thanked you…"

"For what?"

"Everything, I guess. Trusting me, saving me…everything," Andy said softly.

Sam swallowed back a lump in his throat. "There's something I have to tell you, Andy. Something I should have said a long time ago."

Andy raised his chocolate brown eyes to meet Sam's, so the hunter continued, albeit with great reluctance.

"I didn't stumble into this town by accident. My brother and I…came here for a reason. We go from town to town for the same reason, over and over. And we thought this would be just another day. But it wasn't. We've spent our entire lives being taught not to get attached, but this time…there was someone here, and I got attached. Really attached."

Andy was shaking his head confusedly. "What are you talking about?"

Sucking much needed air into his lungs, Sam reached across the table and took Andy's hand. "I'm so sorry for not telling you this sooner, but…I'm a-"

"You boys ready to order?"

Sam could have happily screamed at the waitress right then for her timing. He swallowed back his frustration and let go of Andy's hand, pushing aside his confession for the time being. Andy watched the hunter apprehensively for a few moments before turning to the waitress and asking for her six pack taco combo, hold the lettuce. When she nodded, jotted it down, and asked Sam what he wanted, Sam distantly replied he would have the same, too buried under his thoughts to really acknowledge the proceedings of the outside world, let alone order something to eat. Thankfully she didn't take his detachment personally (not that he would have really cared if she did) and bustled off once more.

"What were you going to tell me?" Andy asked, taking a drink of his Coke.

"Um, nothing. I'll tell you later," Sam muttered, the courage he'd gathered to admit his secret having deflated upon the waitress's untimely appearance.

Andy shot him a dubious look but didn't choose to comment, and they ate their food in silence when it arrived.


	4. Somebody Get Me Through This Nightmare

Sam knew he should be reporting Tracy's body or something, but as they started back towards Andy's van, the only thing he could process was how they were going to explain the circumstances to Dean without one or both of them ending up with a bullet to the brain. Okay, so Sam knew Dean wouldn't shoot his own brother, but it was still bound to end badly.

However, when they reached the van, Dean was nowhere in sight, and his phone lay crushed on the sidewalk. Sam exchanged a panicked glance with Andy, who inhaled deeply before going stark white. Sam shook him and asked what was wrong, and when Andy told him, his voice was low, haunted, and full of fear.

"I think my brother…has _your_ brother."

Sam was in hunter mode the second Andy finished the sentence. He opened the trunk of the left behind Impala and raided the arsenal for anything and everything he might need, arming himself to the teeth. Andy stared at the hidden case of weapons slack jawed, looking between them and Sam.

"Dude, who _are_ you?"

Sam loaded his pistol with a fresh magazine. "Well armed. Lead the way."

Andy still looked shocked at the mobile armory but followed the scent as quickly possible, Sam tailing him. Deep down Sam knew this was a trap, but he kept telling himself that he would find a way to protect both Dean and Andy. He hoped if he kept repeating it in his head, he might start believing it. Usually when he had an innocent to protect (Andy, in this case) he had his brother right there at his side, backing him up. But never before had he faced circumstances like these.

Turns out Asnem and Dean weren't far away, but the drop-off Dean was standing on the edge of _did_ pose a problem. Sam yelled for Dean to step back, but the hunter explained through gritted teeth that he couldn't. A harsh, cold wind blew Sam's long locks into his eyes, the frigid air biting into him through his clothes. He didn't know if this day could possibly get any worse, but he really didn't want to jinx it.

"'Sup, little bro?" asked Asnem calmly, appearing out of the shadows.

"Let him go!" Andy cried.

The other werewolf smiled and walked over to stand in front of Andy, framing his twin's face between his hands. "He has to die, Andy. So does your little boyfriend. Don't you see that they're trying to tear us apart? So was Tracy, and our mother, and that doctor…they were trying to come between us, little brother."

Andy was sick to his stomach. "You killed those people because of _me_?"

"They _had_ to die," Asnem explained. "But don't you see what we can have, you and I? When you open yourself up to your power…you can do things no one else can. We're special, Andy. We can control people's _minds_, for God's sake! We can have anything we want!" he exclaimed, a manic expression painted on his face.

"You're _insane_!" Andy yelled, shaking his twin's shoulders.

Sam was currently gridlocked. One wrong move and Asnem would send Dean hurtling over the edge of the drop-off, but on the other hand, he could barely stand just doing nothing while his brother stood on the edge of life and death, not to mention the psychotic werewolf that could turn on Andy in a split second. He'd never felt so helpless in his life. But regardless of how dire the stakes were, he couldn't just stand there.

Slowly, he began edging towards Dean while Asnem babbled on to Andy, desperately trying to think of some way to break the grip that Dean's mind was locked in. Dean turned his head to stare down at Sam, fear dancing in his jade green eyes under the ever present mask of calm. Sam was still trying to formulate a plan when Asnem suddenly turned in his direction.

"One more move and your brother dies, Sam Winchester," he said evenly.

"I thought you were gonna kill me anyway!" Dean spat.

Just then, Asnem's temper snapped. "Alright, fine. Dean, _jump_."

Sam lunged to grab his brother…

…Dean put one foot off the edge…

…_crack_.

The sound of a gunshot startled everyone present. Asnem's dead body dropped to the ground to reveal Andy, standing behind him, hands shaking as he maintained his white knuckled grip on the gun Sam had given him on the way there. Dean scrambled back, alone in his mind once more, falling onto blissfully solid ground. Sam knelt and asked if he was okay, only for Dean to tell him that yes, he was, but Sam wouldn't be if he didn't get the hell of out of Dean's personal space. The younger brother nodded in understanding and stood up, turning to the shaky brunette that let the gun drop to the ground with a metallic _clang_ that seemed to echo long after the sound had faded from the air.

Sam started forwards, and Andy walked numbly into his arms, trembling. They said nothing…what could they possibly say at this point?

* * *

><p>Andy later explained to the police that Asnem attacked them and Andy shot him in self defense, Sam tuned out the earful of bitching he was getting from Dean about his relationship with Andy (which had been made obvious when they'd held each other earlier in the morning after Andy shot his twin), managed by some miracle to convince Dean not to harm Andy in spite of his species, and finally Andy came over to stand in front of Sam. They stared at each other, wondering what to say. The two had shared so much in such a short time…but the time had come for letting go. It hurt more than Sam imagined possible.<p>

"I'll uh, give you two a minute. Make it snappy," Dean said, walking over to the Impala.

Andy watched him go before turning to gaze up at Sam with large, sad eyes. "So I guess this is it." At Sam's nod, he added, "You never told me what it is you do."

Sam sighed. "Guess I owe you that much, at least. My brother and I hunt supernatural beings. If it's supernatural, we kill it. And when we got here…we planned on killing you." Andy's eyes were full of shock, but Sam plowed on. "But then I got to know you. Call it instinct, call it what you want, but I knew you weren't a killer. And crazy as this sounds…I fell in love." Tears were coming to Sam's eyes. "I love you, Andy Gallagher."

Andy blinked misty eyes and wrapped his arms around Sam's neck, getting up on his tiptoes as he did so. "I love you too Sam. Stay. Stay here, with me," he pleaded.

"I can't…" Sam whispered sadly. "We have to keep hunting. We have to find the demon that killed my dad and my girlfriend, Jess."

They leaned apart to look at each other, and their lips sealed in a kiss full of melancholy and bittersweet love. Sam held Andy close to him, the smaller man's hand burying itself in Sam's hair. Neither of them wanted to let go. Let go of each other psychically, let go of each other at all. Finding love is easy…the hard part is letting go of it. To Sam, leaving Andy felt like leaving a piece of himself behind, a piece required for fully being able to function. That's not to say they wouldn't see each other again, that Sam wouldn't someday find a way to come back and see Andy…but neither of them knew what the future held. All they knew was right then, at that moment, they wanted to freeze time and never leave each other's sides.

But this was the real world. And the time had come for goodbye.

Sam finally released his viselike grip on Andy and stepped back a little, his hands still framing the boy's face. "We may see each other again. This may not be the end."

"You don't know that. But for the sake of being able to sleep at night, for the sake of holding on to the smallest chance I may see you again…until next time, Sam Winchester."

"Until next time, Andy."

And those were the last words they spoke to each other, or at least the last words on that particular occasion. Tears were in their eyes as Sam turned and walked away, knowing if he looked back that he may never be able to leave. As the Impala pulled out, as Sam's heart broke when he looked in the rearview mirror and saw Andy crying, as they got further and further away from the first true happiness Sam had found since losing Jess…he still heard three words in his head, pulling him along, telling him that all hope wasn't lost quite yet.

_Until next time._

**The End**

**"_Whether we see each other next weekend, or next month…never again. It doesn't matter. It's only time." __-Brian Kinney_**


End file.
